


you, as a focal point

by sundermount



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Dimilix Week (Fire Emblem), Established Relationship, Knifeplay (implied), M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-16 10:27:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29574606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sundermount/pseuds/sundermount
Summary: The dagger’s fully unsheathed now. Dimitri thumbs up the sharp edge, and Felixshivers.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 6
Kudos: 31
Collections: 2021 Dimilix Week





	you, as a focal point

**Author's Note:**

> Pining for a knife is a sort of pining, I guess?
> 
> It's still day 6 for some, and day 7 for others. Written for the day 6 prompt of pining, and Felix's birthday on day 7.

It’s a low murmur Felix barely makes out; resembles his name, though he’ll not give them his attention. If it’s important, they’ll try again.

He fixes his attention on Dimitri, impatient, though his expression betrays nothing. Only his hands tell of it: they turn his dagger over and over and over, fists the grip as he runs a thumb along the filigree of decorated crossguard; unsheathes it from the scabbard, silent, before sheathing it again.

“My liege—“ This, Felix hears, and ignores.

Dimitri’s control of his strength is much different from what it’d used to be—raw, unbridled power unchecked and uncontrolled, and only capable of destruction. And Felix _knows_ , from the way Dimitri holds him in his hands, a precious thing; from the way he bruises, deliberate.

Yet it’s when he sees it in the smallest of things that it catches him off-guard—an embroidered tea-towel he gifts to Annette, stitches neat and even. The way he can unsheathe his dagger silently, a game Felix plays as well, when he’s bored or impatient.

"Duke Fraldarius," Dimitri says, and every part of Felix snaps to attention. The dagger’s fully unsheathed now—he thumbs up the sharp edge, and Felix _shivers_ ; stirs, in his breeches. "Lord Kleiman has a question he’d like to direct your way.”

Dimitri’s gaze is knowing.

Felix looks away from him.

-

Felix gifts Dimitri the dagger on his birthday.

Dimitri’s actual present is a lance of Zoltan he spends too much effort tracking down, and no coin at all to buy. The dagger—its deep blue grip and lion’s head pommel identical to his father’s—was meant to replace Dimitri’s own, lost to a pond two moons ago.

Felix doesn’t think too much of it, more concerned about how one would smuggle, then hide an entire lance when none of the castle staff are capable of keeping secrets from Dimitri. An enviable trait, and utterly useless when Felix has to plan surprises.

But Felix is Felix, and he finds a way. Dimitri’s more than surprised by the Zoltan, and displays it in his office, prominent on the wall behind his desk. “A present from—” and here, if Felix is in the room, he’ll smile at him, heart-rending and beatific, “—the esteemed Duke Fraldarius,” he’ll say, to whomever comments on it.

It is by all respects the finest gift. Yet it’s the dagger Felix had unthinkingly commissioned that’s most favoured by Dimitri. 

“Just like you,” he murmurs after the celebrations, as he takes Felix apart with his mouth on him, his hands. “My sharpest blade. My Felix.” Says it so tenderly as he kisses the curve of hipbone, his thick fingers pressed so deep it in Felix feels like he’s touching his _soul_.

-

It’s an easy morning when they’re not required to be out of Dimitri’s bed at dawn. Well-deserved rest, before they’re thrown into the chaos that comes with celebrating the birth of the King’s betrothed.

Dimitri’s still slumbering, and Felix presses gentle fingers to his right eye, lingering, before carefully reaching under his pillow for the dagger. He unsheathes it, and watches the sun glint off its sharp edge. Wonders, not for the first time in his life, what it would feel like to be taken apart by it—by _Dimitri_. 

He’s only ever held it one other time—in the aftermath of their lovemaking after Dimitri’s birthday, still high off sex and the scent of the weapon. He smelled the cold radiating from steel; felt time slow, almost stop, as Dimitri drew it once again. So careful, and with so much _reverence_ Felix could taste it, like the path it cut through the air as Dimitri extended it in his direction, gaze dark and heated, lust unquenched by one measly bout.

It’s in that moment he _knows_ , with a bone-deep surety, it’s Dimitri he wants to be taken apart by; Dimitri he wants to cut into him, carve him open with an unrivalled focus. It’s been two months since, and his desire for it has only intensified.

There’s a dip in the bed, the sound of sheets rasping, and warmth by his side.

He turns, and there’s Dimitri, rubbing sleep from his eye, before it fixes on the dagger in Felix’s hands. He props himself up and leans down to kiss Felix, tongue licking into his mouth, quick, once, before they separate. 

“Good morning, my Felix,” he says. “Happy birthday.”

Felix’s hand is still on his dagger. Dimitri looks at it, his gaze knowing.

“Tell me what you want,” he says, looming over Felix. Gentle and patient, even as his lust builds and grows; Felix can feel him stir against his thigh, wet his skin.

Felix turns his head, looks at the curve of the blade, beautiful and dangerous and sharp. He rests his cheek against it, a cosseted pet to its owner’s hand; the blue is but a ring around Dimitri’s eye now, swallowed by black.

“I want,” he says, throat dry, as Dimitri waits. “I need—“

**Author's Note:**

> :)


End file.
